Bank of London
by CS Tracy
Summary: Slight AU in which Virgil goes to the Bank of London after Alan and Jeff. What will he find there? Rated K for moderate violence. Movie-verse.
1. At The Bank

**Hi, guys, it's me again I just want to thank you all for your kind words and support on my first story, '**_**Satellite Relay Station'**_**, especially Ro-Ro Weasely. It was amazing, so here's hoping you all like this one as much.**

**Just a bit more exploration around the movie, with a bit of an AU. I always found it slightly disappointing that none of the brothers disagreed with Jeff, or tried to go to the bank. Anyways, here's my version.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Thunderbirds, so kudos to Gerry and Sylvia Anderson there. If I did, there would definitely be another live-action movie, and Busted would definitely be doing the theme song (notice there's no 'Mc' there...)**

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All of the passengers were safe and sound from the monorail, with only some broken fingers and superficial cuts. Sprout and Tin-tin had certainly done an outstanding job. Scott and I helped the last of them off the boats and to the ambulances waiting. John and Gordon were still sorting out Two and Three.

"What do we do now?" I asked my oldest brother.

"Bank of London, I guess. Gords can handle looking after John for a few more minutes."

"John, _and_ the Thunderbirds?" I raised my eyebrows.

"You make an excellent point, little bro. You get to the bank. I'll go and make sure he's not putting whoopee cushions under all our seats, or something. His back's playing up anyway; I don't want either of them doing too much." Scott gave a quick wave and jogged off, leaving me to run to the bank. Weird how he actually let me out of his sight after today, but I guess he was so distracted that he completely forgot to be unreasonably overprotective.

Policemen were everywhere, milling up and down the marble steps and standing awkwardly around Thunderbird One. One held his hand out to me as I sprinted past, his accent so thick I had to strain to understand him. "'Scuse me, sir, but we 'ave word that there's a dangerous criminal inside."

"I understand that." _I'm actually trying not to rip your head – wait, the Hood's in there? _In that case, I was actually quite glad Scott didn't come. If he knew the man nearly responsible for killing all four of his brothers was within a hundred-mile radius, he'd kill him. "My fa-colleagues are inside too. They might require medical attention." Not that it mattered that I didn't have any medical equipment with me at that precise time.

"Ah, let 'im go, Bill." A second policeman stepped up, looking decidedly more superior, and appraised my flight suit, covered as it was in soot, dirt and just a little of John's blood. "'E's International Rescue, inn'e?"

Not waiting for a response, I began running again. A strange feeling was coiling itself up from my stomach. I knew that there was trouble waiting inside. I had to find my family.

Rounding a corner, I found Fermat and Parker keeping watch over a large, currently unconscious man dressed all in black. "Master Tracy!" Parker yelled as I ran past, but I ignored him. I was on the right track, but I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling.

I slowed to a walk as I saw sparks erupting ahead of me, and the familiar yellow body of the Mole. They must be around here somewhere. I was just about to duck through the huge gap that had been torn in the wall when Dad's voice yelled, "_Alan!_ Get out, run."

"He's getting weaker!" my brother responded, sounding hoarse and breathless. "He can't last much longer."

"Neither can you!" Dad sounded pretty desperate. "Alan, no!"

I peeked around the wall to see Alan climbing up the Mole, grabbing hold of the sharp metal blades to pull himself towards the small man standing on the metal gantry just above him.

"Look out!"

The Hood raised his arms above his head and brought them down again, making the drill's head whirr into life and start to move. My brother looked down just in time to see what was happening, and grabbed onto the rickety metal walkway, right below the Hood.

"_ALAN!"_ Dad yelled.

"Sprout!" I shouted, jumping into the open. My eyes were fixed on my brother, but I couldn't miss the fact that Lady Penelope was locked in a vault with Dad, who looked like he was in in serious pain.

The Hood spun around with a pleasant smile, not looking at all shocked to see me there. "Ah, young Tracy mark three. I'm glad you could be here to see this, Jeff, Virgil."

I glared up at him. He'd nearly killed us all, and now he was trying to finish the job. Starting to run, I shouted, "Alan! Move, quick." My little brother started to wriggle along the bar he was clinging to, just out of reach of the shredding blades. Neither of us got too far.

The Hood thrust his hand out towards me and, before I knew what was happening, I was flying. I smashed into the wall and slid to the floor, dazed.

"Stop!" Dad begged, gripping the bars of the vault. I was frozen, unable to move as the small man turned back around and ground his leather soles across Alan's fingers. With a cry of pain, Alan let go with one hand.

"No!" I gasped. After everything we'd been through today, Alan couldn't die like this. It would kill Gordon, and destroy the rest of our family too. I tried to get up, but my legs wouldn't obey me - it felt like they were being held in place by something.

"Goodbye, Alan," the Hood sang, moving onto his other hand.

The sound of running feet pulled my gaze away from my little brother. Tin-tin appeared from the same direction I'd come from, taking a second to survey the scene in front of her. _"NO!"_

The Hood glanced round, almost in irritation that he had to deal with any more of us. Seeing her, he smirked. "Oh-ho." His eyes turned red. Sure, we'd seen him cause Kyrano pain, but seeing it in real life was a completely different matter. It was totally freakish.

Tin-tin grasped her necklace with the pendant, glaring up at him as her eyes shifted from dark brown to liquid gold. The two stared at each other, fighting it out somewhere other than the physical world. It was only a few seconds, though it felt like hours, before a nut sparked and fell free of the gantry, spinning it a full 90 degrees. Somehow Alan was now on top, with the Hood hanging from the railings.

The hold on my body was broken as Tin-tin sagged next to me, clutching her head, and I clambered up in time to catch her and pull her to her feet again. The Hood whispered something to Alan, ripping one hand from the railing as he did. The man was going to plunge himself into the shredding metal machine, taunting my brother as he did.

Scott suddenly appeared next to me, out of nowhere, helping me support Tin-tin and glancing around wildly. "Virge, what – whoa, Tin-tin – how – Lady P – Dad – Alan!"

I looked away as the Hood cast himself from the railings. Whatever the man had done to us in the past six hours or so, it wasn't a sight I wanted to see. Scott gripped my arm so tight it was almost painful. "Look."

Frowning, I turned back to see my baby brother holding the Hood's arm as if his life depended on it, saying something as he did so. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dad nodding approvingly, smiling.

"Here." I helped Tin-tin sit against the wall before jogging after Scott to the gantry. Both him and Alan were already pulling the Hood to safety, balancing on the metal rails. The second he was clear, I pulled his arms behind him. "You will regret ever even _thinking_ about doing what you were about to do!" I hissed. "Scott, turn the Mole off, quick. Alan, get the bank officials and the security forces."

For once, my eldest brother actually did what I told him, as did my youngest. Again, not a common phenomenon. I escorted the madman from the walkway and handed him over to the police, along with his two accomplices. Then I jogged back with the bank manager's keys, only to find both Dad and Lady P free of the vault already. Scowling around the assembled faces, which only consisted of Alan and Tin-tin, I decided Alan looked pretty guilty. Gordon's lockpicking skills must be being passed down the family.

"Sprout," I said breathlessly. I hadn't had a proper talk with Alan since he'd come home for spring break, never mind since we'd landed in Three. "Sprout, you okay?"

"'Course I am, Doc. Quit worrying." Standard Alan response.

"Sorry!" I held up my hands in surrender. "Average team medic slash older brother default. But don't think I've forgotten who saved every single one of our sorry asses." That got him smiling again.

"Isn't that Scott's job, to be fussing around everyone? Where is Scott, by the way?"

"Him and Mr. Tracy are giving a statement to the police." Tin-tin offered. "Y'know, as Field Commander and Commander."

"C'mon," I said, shaking my head. "We should get home." Alan opened his mouth to speak. "And no, Sprout, you are not flying my bird again. I saw the landing trajectory and speed you pulled in One."

"That was an emergency," he protested.

"I don't care. I'm still flying. You're lucky the retros work as well as they do, or Thunderbird One could have become a permanent monument, embedded in Jubilee Gardens. There's no way I'm risking Two. She's been through enough today already."

"Whatever."

"Good to have our normal, moody, uncooperative Sprout back," I grinned. "Right, let's go. This everyone?"

"Yup. Fermat's already outside with Parker and Lady P. Just us three."

"FAB. Back to base, then."

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**Thanks for reading! What did you think? Let me know**

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	2. Going Home

**Hi, everyone!**

**Thank you for all your reviews, due to which this story is being continued. I hadn't planned on writing another chapter, so apologies ****for it being a little while since I last posted. (It took me ages ;))**

**Sorry for mild use of language, but it fit. Don't like it, don't read ;)**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Thunderbirds, so kudos to Gerry and Sylvia Anderson there. If I did, there would definitely be another live-action movie, and Busted would definitely be doing the theme song (notice there's no 'Mc' there...)**

**Enjoy!**

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Getting home was interesting to say the least.

Gordon came racing around a corner and nearly collided with Tin-tin barely five seconds after we'd left the vault room. John came puffing after him, shooting me a quick apologetic glance. He knew I'd be after him later for not resting.

"Alan!" My immediate younger brother instantly jumped on the youngest blond. "What happened?"

"How does he know?" I muttered, stepping aside as Gordon proceeded to smother Alan quite as well as Scott often did.

"Something…weird, Virge." John frowned in confusion. "He couldn't breathe, and then it was like he was having a panic attack. Funny thing was, he insisted it wasn't him – I mean, I thought his back was playing up or something."

Tin-tin cocked her head to the side slightly. "That hasn't happened for years."

"Sorry, _has_ it happened before?" I asked, mystified. I knew Scott had an almost unearthly sense whenever something was wrong with me, but I just put it down to big brother instinct.

"The last time…" she continued. "God, it must have been the day of the crash."

John and I both winced. As a general rule, we don't talk about Gordon's accident.

"He - Alan - told me how he woke up, in the middle of the night, and just knew something had happened. Then when Scott showed up to take him to the hospital…"

"Yeah," I agreed.

"They've just drifted apart since your Dad started the organization and sent Alan away," Tin-tin added, sending a pointed look my way. "You all have."

Alan assured Gordon he was fine for the millionth time and began to walk off, closely followed by the swimmer. I rolled my eyes, gesturing to Tin-tin. "Shall we?"

She grinned. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?" That pulled me up short.

"Something big, yellow, made of metal…"

"Ah, hell," I moaned. "How on earth am I gonna get that out without bringing the bank down, or destroying the whole monorail network?"

"I'll help," John offered brightly.

"Oh. No. Nuh-uh," I refused flatly. "You are going to go back to Two and wait in the med bay, like you should be doing anyway."

"I'll come," Tin-tin sighed. "Hope you don't mind if I drip water on your seats."

"Why _are_ you so wet?" We'd only seen her emerge from our little sub with Alan. "Does Four have a leak?"

"I wish. I dove into the Thames to fix the line."

"Sorry, what?" John looked as lost as I was.

"You dove…" I repeated faintly. It's all well and good being the family medic, but it really doesn't help when members of said family try to kill themselves.

"Long story. Anyway, we'd better get going, right?"

Retrieving the Mole was eventful.

Scott moved One back to Jubilee Gardens to supervise the rest of the clean-up, as well as Alan circling Four around the Thames waiting for someone to pick him up. Gordon had accidentally left his mike switched on in Three as he ran a more comprehensive damage check, so at least we had his steady stream of curses, oaths and muttered swear words to keep us entertained.

To avoid any more damage to the bank, Tin-tin suggested we reverse it back through the tunnel it had already created, before realising, too late, that that would surely be the end of London's monorail network. Instead, we had to start going forwards again mid-journey and nearly severed one of Scott's wings when we emerged, creating a second large hole in Jubilee Gardens. Needless to say, both the council and my big brother were less than impressed.

Hovering Two just over the Thames so Four could slide up onto its pod section, it suddenly hit me just how close to death every single one of us had come.

Rubbing my hands up and down my face, I moaned pathetically. John could easily have died in the initial explosion, or if Fermat hadn't been able to hack into the computers, or if Tin-tin hadn't turned up when she did…

_"Virge?"_

"Huh?" Alan's angry voice startled me from my slowly descending-into-darkness thoughts

_"Pull me up, for God's sake! I'm just sitting here like an idiot."_

Tin-tin giggled, clearly enjoying the sight of Thunderbird Four being suspended from the bottom of Two like a baby bird.

"Sorry," I mumbled, retracting the pod section and pulling away from the water. Switching my comlink back onto an open channel, I heard two very familiar voices arguing.

_"No, Gordon, there is no way in hell you are flying Three with your back-!"_

_"And what about Dad's back? You can't tell me he's all fine and dandy when he's over there, walking like Quasimodo-"_

_"Someone else can fly."_

_"Who?"_

There was a moment of dead silence, during which Alan arrived in the cockpit from the cargo bay. Winking at him, I quickly ran through the possibilities in my mind before addressing my two brothers.

"Alan could fly One, Scott."

_"WHAT?!" _My earpiece just about flew across the cockpit. Alan winced. _"Have you _seen_ the post-flight data? Did you _see_ the stunt he pulled landing? Do you _think_ I'm about to _risk_-?"_

_"I think it's a great idea." _Gordon was clearly looking for some way to get back at Scott after effectively being grounded, despite the fact that his little brother had nearly crashed our flagship.

_"Boys?"_

Brilliant. Grinning, I gave Alan the thumbs-up. Dad was bound to veto Scott.

_"Dad, someone needs to fly Three and Virgil-"_

_"I heard."_

Alan doubled up in fits of silent chuckles. From somewhere on the ground, Tin-tin's bubbly laugh floated through my earpiece.

_"Great. So, you can fly Three, right?"_

_"I think Virgil's right, Scott."_

_"Sorry, what?"_

I snorted and tuned out again, jerking my head at Alan. "Think you'd best get down there, Sprout."

"Awesome!" His grin stretched even wider. "Thanks, Virge!"

"Anytime," I murmured. Anything to distract Scott from Fifty Different Ways to Kill the Hood.

The sounds of yells, protests, ranting and curses drifted up from below, and I winced when I realised I didn't need my comlink switched on to hear every word of Scott's tirade.

Eventually, we got several brothers settled, happy or unhappy, although Scott insisted that Dad accompany Alan, Tin-tin and Fermat to make sure they didn't crash his darling Thunderbird. Grumbling, he then proceeded to shoot me his best death glare and all but dragged John into Three. Gordon gave in with a good-natured snort and joined me in Two.

"That was fun."

"Glad you think so," I muttered, waving to Alan as One fired her thrusters and lifted off, Three shadowing her.

"That was sarcasm, Virge."

"As was that."

He smirked at me for a moment, before sitting forward. "You okay?"

"Perfectly." I glowered at my controls for a moment. "I mean, it's not like we just almost died or anything, is it?"

Gordon's a good listener when he has a mind. Unlike Scott or John, who both instantly jump on you and want to wrap you in cotton wool, Gordon and Alan just sit there and let you get it all out. One of the perks of being my permanent co-pilot, of course, is that you have to watch me lose it on occasion. Occasions like right then, for example.

"And it's not like our completely safe, secure, _secret_ base was taken over, apparently with no effort at all, or that we left Alan in danger while we all rushed off to be heroes and nearly got ourselves killed." I was getting more and more worked up, but I knew that if I didn't do it now, I'd do it later.

"And, no, I didn't have to sit up there in the dark and the heat, running out of air, just hoping at least one of us would make it out safe, even if the rest of us didn't. And I didn't have to watch Dad breaking down, or Scott freaking out, or you absolutely crapping your pants, because we all thought every single one of us was going to die. No, none of that happened, so there's no reason why I wouldn't be fine, is there?"

Gordon was silent for a minute, and I jerked Two up and away from Jubilee Gardens, setting a course back home. Twin blips appeared on my radar, and I realised that Scott and Alan had been waiting for me the whole time. The pair of them swooping underneath me and crossing paths, whooping as they did, got me smiling again, if only for a second.

"You're right," my brother said finally. "Sorry."

"Is this the same Gordon Tracy we all know and love?" I forced out through gritted teeth, fighting to rein my temper in. I don't get mad very much, but when I decide to, the results are often spectacular. Not the best idea when you're piloting the most uncooperative flying pig known to mankind. "Since when do you apologise for anything?"

"Since all of the above happened," he explained quietly. "I just kept thinking, if just one of us got out of that station – didn't have to be me – just so that Alan wasn't on his own…I'd have done anything."

"Mmm…" I agreed quietly, swinging south slightly to meet the island head-on.

"And when I called him a kid, I just…I didn't mean it, Virgil."

"I know you didn't," I told him. "Which is why he's never going to know, from me, anyway, and why we should all remember how much he's _not_ being a kid right now."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So, tell me…" I kept my eyes fixed on the controls, even though Two could pretty much perform a rescue on auto, never mind fly home. "What made you come to the bank?"

"And you?"

"You first."

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"I think today puts the monopoly on _crazy_, Gordo," I informed him. "I was thrown across a room and held against a wall by solid air. I saw a girl that I've know for the best part of four years unscrew a nut just by glaring at it. I have been reliably informed that my baby brother managed to pilot three of our birds without causing an international incident, and I think – I may not have been breathing properly at the time – but I think Brains _shouted_."

"Can't help you there, Virge," Gordon grinned, his strange mood finally lifting slightly. "Brains shouting? Nah, I think that was the oxygen deprivation having it on with you."

He didn't say anything more, and I wasn't about to press him. He'd come clean in his own time, in his own way. Maybe he already had, to Alan, or possibly John.

We flew on in companionable silence until Brains' voice crackled over the radio. _"Approaching Tracy Island, Thunderbird Two, prepare to make runway landing. And…welcome back. It's good to see you."_

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**Thanks for reading!**

_**~*CST*~ **_


	3. Welcome Back!

**Heyyy! Long time no see, strangers! Thank you for sticking with me through all this - for a time I wasn't even sure if I had the motivation or ideas to finish this, but here we are.**

**Many thanks to Ro-Ro Weasley: a) for updating 'Trouble' (which is a great story by the way, so go and check it out) and b) for continuously reminding me that this actually existed XD so thank her for this chapter.**

**Apologies for mild language, but…you know…comic timing**

**Enjoy!**

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"Initiate landing," I told Gordon, once again settling into the familiar routine of having him as my co-pilot. It was almost like nothing had ever happened…well, almost, anyway.

_"__Vertical landing initiated."_

"Right," he agreed. "Retros to sixty. Watch your positioning."

"Got it." I turned to the down-facing cameras, searching for the crawler pad. "Adjusting descent…left a bit."

Gordon's finger hovered over the button to fire the thrusters. "Just say when…"

The crawler pad lit up on my display, showing that we were in the right position above it.

_"__Landing target locked."_

"Okay, go."

Two slowly began lowering herself onto the transport vehicle, her thrusters blowing all the plants away from the side of the runway, as per usual. And, as per usual, Kyrano was going to throw a raging fit.

_"__Transport clamps activated."_

A slight jolt told us we'd landed, and Gordon casually flipped the switch that sent us trundling backwards into the silo. The palm trees sashayed upright in front of us, their green heads swaying, as we reversed inside. The sun bounced off the clear sea, sending ripples of light dancing across the cliff face.

"Feels good to be home," I muttered, watching as the cavern wall slid shut again.

"More so than usual," Gordon agreed darkly, ducking from the cockpit and bounding the stairs that led to the ground. With a sigh, I shut down Two's systems and followed him, determined to put him out of his strange mood.

"Gordon!"

Swinging out of the handrail on my way down the flight of stairs, I nearly smashed my face into his stationary back, parked as it was just inside the access door.

"What-?" I stopped when he turned to face me, a strange expression twisting his features.

"Are you okay?" I asked warily, readying myself for a nervous breakdown. I am not a qualified psychologist, but - and John can also attest to this - our brothers often see fit to use us as verbal punchbags. Of course, it's not always confined to purely aural assaults.

"Look," he forced out between his teeth, before finally giving in to his swirling myriad of emotions and exploding into loud bellows of laughter.

Frowning, I pushed past him, only to find my silo in utter and irreversible chaos.

The Thunderiser was parked in front of the huge hanger doors that led to One's silo, which were firmly closed. The lift was covered in green, flame retardant foam, for which the suspiciously positioned Firefly was the prime candidate. Moving around so I could see better, I noticed for the first time the entirety of One's doors.

"Holy sh-"

"_Thank_ you, Virgil," Dad interrupted, clambering through the burnt, scorched, perfectly rectangular hole that led to Scott's silo. The three kids followed, taking in the damage and grinning sheepishly, but not looking altogether surprised. Gordon bounced over, his good mood apparently fully restored, and gave Alan a slappy high five for the complete havoc and destruction he'd managed to wreak.

"Was this you?" I demanded of my youngest brother, folding my arms.

"The door was," he offered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The lift was me," Tin-tin admitted, ducking her head. Fermat remained worryingly silent, but I decided not to pursue the matter.

"How long have we got?" Alan asked finally, with the air of a man trying to delay the inevitable.

"Not long enough," Dad groaned. "Unless Brains can delay Scott for about two more weeks while we order a whole new panel, shape it and fit it."

"I, er, think we're running out of excuses," Tin-tin told him, grimacing. "We've already told him that One was landing-"

"And then Two," Fermat added.

"And that he needed to run the engines down because Brains wanted to try a new type of fuel," Alan interjected. "He's gonna twig that something's wrong eventually, and then…"

"You're so dead," Gordon whispered gleefully.

"Any suggestions, then, genius?" Alan retorted. "Maybe you'd like to send them up to Five en route?"

Dad froze in his survey of the hanger, turning to glare at his youngest son. Fermat gulped and took a step back.

"No one is ever going up to that space station. Not ever again. You hear me?"

"Dad, I was just-"

_"Do you understand?!"_

"Yes!" Alan snapped, Dad's angry tone getting his back up instantly.

"Good."

We all watched in confusion as Dad stalked away, his back as rigid as a board.

"What in the name of…" Gordon trailed off, shaking his head.

"Give him time," Tin-tin advised, pulling a heavy-duty hose out from its slot in the wall and dragging it towards the lift. "He blames himself for today, and he's scared of what could happen on Five."

"Right…" I said slowly.

"And he can't cope with knowing that he nearly killed you all by bringing you up there. He just doesn't want anything to do with it right now."

"And how the hell do you know that?" Gordon muttered, throwing her a look.

"Don't ask," she shot back, firing up the hose. We all leapt out of the way as a high-pressure jet of water erupted from the nozzle, slicing into the steadily congealing foam.

"Might I enquire what good reason you had for foaming my lift?" I turned to Alan, raising my eyebrows. "Because it doesn't look at all burnt, generally a tell-tale sign that there was a fire."

"There were men in it," my brother informed me matter-of-factly, nodding sagely to confirm

"What?" Gordon tugged on a tuft of his brown-blond hair, making him wince. "There were a couple of baddies in it, and so, rather than running them over with the car or frying them with the powerful laser cannon, you blasted them with fireproof gunk."

"Well, when you put it like that…" Alan agreed.

A sudden rumbling caught everyone's attention. Alan paled considerably as the sound of Three's engines filled the air, the roar fading to a piercing whine as Scott brought it down.

"Uh-oh…" Fermat sang, half to himself.

"Virgil," Alan said, sniffling. "It was nice knowing you."

"Run, Sprout," I told him. "Run like all the hounds of hell are after you."

"Well, they are!" he cried. "He's gonna kill me! I'm telling you, being chased by men on a quad bike through the jungle has nothing on this."

"Someday very soon," Gordon warned him. "You are going to explain that last comment extremely precisely to me. But, for now, we're going to run, because I feel sure that Scott will find some way to blame me, and Virgil is going to cover for us."

"Yeah, you tell yourself that!" I yelled after them as they sprinted to the access door at the back of the silo and dived through it.

"Hey, Virge!"

I fixed a smile on my face, seeing Scott duck through the tunnel between the two silos.

"Oh, hi, Scott…"

"Something wrong?" he asked, his grin fading. "You okay?"

Tin-tin rolled her eyes and ramped the pressure on the hose up another notch, forcing us both to shout to be heard as John joined us.

"You calmed down a bit?" I asked warily.

"Well, he certainly took his frustration out on the way home," John complained, massaging his head. "I have no desire to ever go so fast in anything ever again."

"I'm calm," Scott confirmed happily, seemingly oblivious to John's moaning. He was almost _too_ cheerful, and I made a mental note to take a stock of all the painkillers aboard Three. "Why?"

"Umm…you need to see something."

"I'm sure my dad needs my help," Fermat piped up suddenly. "I'll c-c-c-see you guys at dinner."

Scott watched him disappear up the stairs towards the house, his eyebrows scrunched together.. "Okay, what is it? This sounds important."

"Turn around," I suggested quietly, making a swivelling motion with my hands to make sure he understood. Frowning, he complied.

"Don't go mad," I begged, seeing his shoulders tense. Tin-tin shut off the water and watched us, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

Scott's head whipped between his destroyed door and me, his dark blue eyes wide in disbelief and a vein beginning to throb in his temple. Moving to stand in front of him, I noticed Dad come up behind him, making an apprehensive face.

"Say something?" I asked eventually, starting to get quite worried about the unfathomable reaction from the brother I could normally get through to more than anyone.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, before yelling, "Holy shit!"

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**Let me know what you think ;)**

**Thanks for reading!**

_**~*CST*~**_


	4. Talks

**Hey, everyone! Thanks for all your reviews on the last chapter, and sorry if I didn't have time to reply to them all. Once I actually got back into this, it was like my muse had been drinking coffee - my brain went into overdrive and I churned out this chapter and a couple of others.**

**Plus, I just heard on the radio that, here in the UK anyway, ITV are rebooting the original 1960s TV series, with the puppets and all. Like yay! Can't wait.**

**Enjoy!**

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Tin-tin let go of the hose suddenly, and it flew back into its holder in the wall with a sharp snap and a click. The noise shocked the rest of us into a blur of motion.

Scott spun around, his mouth agape as if preparing to shout again. John and I cringed away, expecting a bellow to break forth. Instead, Dad held up his hand and we all jumped to attention. The return to stillness again was pretty disconcerting.

"Dad!" Scott greeted him airily. "Didn't see you there."

"Clearly," Dad agreed. As Scott went to speak again, he grinned. "It's alright, Scooter, I think we've all got a free pass on the language today."

"_I_ didn't," I muttered sulkily, and John snorted.

"Okay," Scott decided, clearly figuring out exactly who was responsible for the hole in his door. "Where's Alan?"

"Not here?" I offered.

"Tin-tin?"

"Is that the time?" Tin-tin asked of no one in particular. "Mom's gonna want my help…unless you guys don't want your dinner on time?"

Shooting me an apologetic glance, she ducked into the lift, flicking the last remnants of the foam away with her sneakers. The doors slid shut, and I noted, with a feeling of relief, that it _seemed_ to be working fine.

"Where is he?" Scott asked again, folding his arms.

"Umm…" I started, eager to leave the silo. "I'll…go look for him."

"Sure," Dad said approvingly. "John, why don't you report to Brains in the med bay?"

"I-"

"That wasn't an offer."

"I'll be up in bit to spring you," I promised him under my breath. He threw me a grateful smile and headed up the stairs back to the house.

"Later!" I called, turning away and fleeing as fast as I could. Scott stared after me in disbelief, his eyebrows raised. Normally, I'd feel bad about it but today…not so much.

A blast of heat hit me the minute I stepped outside, and I realised just how cold it had actually been in England. No wonder Lady Penelope liked to visit so often.

Gordon appeared around the pool, looking rather disgruntled, and I waved him over.

"Where's Al?"

"Down by the beach. He just sort of blew up on me, Virge. I don't know what I said."

"I'll talk to him," I suggested. "If you handle Scott?"

"Anything," Gordon agreed glumly, plodding back inside like a dejected donkey. That in itself surprised me. He was never anything like that upset, our eternally optimistic brother, but I guessed he was finding it hard to cope with the fact that Alan was no longer the innocent kid we'd once known and loved.

Gordon was normally the best at talking to Alan, but, then again, I was usually the only one who could get through to Scott.

Today had grabbed our world by its ankles, flipped it upside down, shaken it until it was spinning the other way on its axis and then dropped it unceremoniously on its head, where I was sure it would remain for quite some time.

Sighing, I picked my way down the rugged path, twigs and roots crunching under my feet. Stepping out into bright sunlight once again, I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

Alan was sitting by the sea, his bare feet resting just in reach of the clear water. He had his legs clutched to his chest and his chin was resting on his knees.

"Hey, Sprout."

"Oh, it's you, Virge."

"Who were you expecting?"

"Oh, only Gordon, Scott, Tin-tin."

"All at once?"

"Nah." A small bit of playfulness entered his voice, the first time I'd heard it in a long while. "I'm fairly sure Scott would want his privacy in order to commit a brutal murder."

"Probs," I agreed.

"Probs?" he snorted. "Where did you hear that?"

"You," I reminded him.

"Oh, yeah. Well, it's just this thing going round school."

We were silent for a few more moments, watching the shadows extend themselves further and further down the beach. Alan wriggled his toes into the sand, scooping some up and flinging it into the lapping waves.

"Al?" I asked finally. "Are you okay?"

"Okay, who put you up to this?" he sighed.

"Why does it have to be someone else's idea?" I complained.

"Because Gordon wants to know why I'm upset," he countered. "And you're normally never this nosy."

"Today was the end of all things _normal_," I muttered, turning back to the sea.

He blew out a long breath. "Fine. I just…I really thought you were going to_ die,_ Virge. All of you."

"I know." What else was there to say?

"The bank was the worst." Alan shuddered, hugging his knees even closer into him as if he was suddenly cold. "I mean, if he'd won…"

I couldn't help a little shiver of my own. "He didn't, Al."

"But if he had. You and Scott could have been next, and then Gordon when he came after me." His voice wobbled a little on his favourite brother's name. "If Tin-tin hadn't turned up when she did…"

He looked so downcast all of a sudden, I half-expected thunder to roll and rain to start pouring.

"What if he comes back? Could we beat him again? Maybe I should have let him fall…"

"Alan, listen." It took a few seconds but he eventually turned his head to look at me, placing his cheek on his knee. His bright blue eyes were swimming with tears. "Any of the rest of us – we would have let go, no question. We're trained to save lives, yeah. But that guy, he messed with our little brother."

A small smile began to work its way across his face. "And that's unforgivable?"

"We won't tolerate it," I assured him sagely. "Just for that, and never mind all the crap he put us through on Five and stealing my bird, we would have left him to die."

"So what's wrong with me, then?" Alan asked, glaring out at the horizon once more.

"Wrong?" I repeated. "Doesn't that just prove you're better than all of us put together?"

"Does it? That's just another thing you guys would have done differently to me."

"What, you think there's some kind of _me _and _them_ thing going on here?" I teased gently. "We do miss you, Al, when you're at school. Gordon's never so quiet. But then you actually get here and, well…"

"Turn the place into a battlefield," he finished. "Last summer, remember? Everyone chose sides, it was all-out trench warfare in the jungle-"

"Christmas break, you nearly killed both you and Gordon-"

"See what I mean? Everything that could go wrong does."

"Still," I mused. "Maybe make a effort this time. Dad's in a better mind-set than he's been in since you blew up the chemistry lab."

"So why did he go off on me in the silo?" Alan demanded.

"You heard Tin-tin," I reminded him. "He's just worried, Al. He came _this_ close to losing every single one of us, not to mention the kids."

"So-"

"But, because of that," I continued smoothly, ignoring his interruption. "He'll be willing to appreciate the time he spends with you more. And so will the rest of us," I added as an afterthought.

"Thanks." I could see some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

"Welcome." I lay back onto the sand, my hands behind my head, and closed my eyes. "Sorry it took all this for us to see how important you are to us."

"Vice versa and back at you," he responded, quick as you like. I grinned.

"Guys?"

Tin-tin appeared from the jungle, not from the path, but off some unchartered route. Rolling my eyes at her love of deliberately not using trails, I raised a hand in greeting. She settled herself between Alan and me, squirming to get comfortable.

"How's Scott doing?" I asked, soaking up the last of the sun's warmth. I'd thought I'd never again feel the breeze on my face again.

"Oh, Mr Tracy's making him tidy up the entire silo to work his frustration off. Gordon's cracking jokes about holes and lasers. Dinner's nearly ready. John's enjoying his medication a little _too_ much…"

Alan snorted. "What?"

"You shoulda seen him the last time, Sprout. Brains took a rotation on Five, and we were called out to an earthquake in South America. 'Course, first thing the idiot does is run into a collapsing building and get some kids out. Smashed his foot to bits."

"How?" my little brother grinned.

"He stubbed it on a concrete block," Tin-tin interjected. "I tell you, the noise he was making, Scott thought he'd died."

"Anyway, I strapped him up and gave him some painkillers. Halfway home, I can hear him saying something over the intercom, but I can't tell what, so I give Gordon the controls and go down to see what's wrong."

"And?"

"There he is, _singing_ to himself in the bed. John. _Singing."_

"So?" Alan seemed to be missing the point entirely.

"Have you ever heard John sing, Sprout? Generally I'm a tolerant person, but that was just…" I trailed off, unable to find words for the abomination I'd witnessed. "What's he doing now?"

"Something about Simba and a circle of life?" Tin-tin shrugged as Alan dissolved into uncontrollable fits of laughter. "Mean anything to you?"

"Yep. Ever seen the Lion King?"

"No." She shook her head.

"Well, my young Padawan, at the start there's this great scene where the baby lion prince is christened by an ugly baboon. John used to play it all the time with Alan."

"I was the lion, for the record," Alan informed us. "Not the baboon."

Tin-tin giggled, pulling out her cell and checking the time. "Dinnertime, boys. You coming with?"

"Are you using the trail this time?" I retorted.

"Nope."

"Then, no," Alan decided with a grin. "Had enough of that today."

She stuck her tongue out at us over her shoulder as she sauntered away. "Bet I'll still beat you there!"

"Oh, yeah, that's real mature!" Alan shot back, clambering to his feet and dusting sand from his jeans. "You coming?"

"Yep." I accepted his hand. "But first I think we'd best go and liberate Scott from our dearest aquanaut."

"Should we?"

"It would be the right thing to do," I mused, pretending to make a big deal out of it.

"Let's do it!" Alan decided. "Quick, rush, go!"

"What?" I ground to a halt, staring at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"School thing!" he called, already halfway to the start of the path. With a growl, I shook my head and raced after him.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! If you have any ideas for a few more chapters then feel free to PM me, because I feel I will be facing a riot if I ever try to end this story XD**

**Also, the 'probs' and the 'quick, rush, go' are just a few of the amazing inside jokes going round my year at school. If you want, I'll try and explain them in the next chapter.**

_**~*CST*~**_


	5. Dinner

**Oh no….**

**How can I even begin to explain how sorry I am?**

**Well, my Internet has been down at home for ages (rural areas) and now I've been on holiday for the past two and a half weeks without Internet again. Now I'm in a little cafe in the depths of Killarney using their wifi XD**

**And Ro-Ro Weasely, I'm sososososososososo sorry I couldn't reply to you or get this up! Hope your holiday was good, honey!**

**Enjoy! I'm just gonna go hide in a hole….**

***points to relevant hole***

* * *

"Hey, Scott!" Gordon's excited voice echoed around the hanger as we slipped back inside. The brother in question was perched on top of the Firefly, watching Scott scrubbing around the edges of the hole. Alan crept around the edges, simultaneously trying to keep a distance from Scott and making stupid faces at me, so that between him and Gordon, I had to really work to contain my laughter.

"What, Gordon?"

"There's been a hole burned through your door, but don't worry, we're looking into it."

"Ha," Scott retorted wearily. "Well, maybe you should look harder."

"I know, but I'm finding it kinda hard to see…do you think I should go for laser eye surgery?"

Alan's snort echoed around by the hanger, but it was drowned out as Scott groaned, thumping his head off the reinforced steel, and I decided to take pity on him.

"Hey, Scooter!"

"Virgil!" My eldest brother swung around, his eyes alight in panic. "Quick, get me out of here! His jokes…I can't cope."

"Can you not?" I asked mildly, raising an eyebrow at Gordon. He took the hint, vaulting from the swivelling console and jogging to the lift.

"You found Alan, then?" Scott squeezed his scrubbing cloth, black-spotted water dribbling into his bucket.

"Yep. You calmed down? Because I am not prepared to sit through a whole dinner of you two snarking at each other, and, believe me, school has given him some great comebacks."

"I'm calm," he promised, much like he had earlier. "Tin-tin told me what happened on her way down to fetch you."

"Yeah?"

"I can't believe what they did to them, Virge – they're only kids." I could see the tendons beginning to strain in his neck again, a sure sign that he was losing it. "They would have killed them without a second thought. I shudder to think what they'd have done to them if they'd been caught while we were on the screens…what they would've done to Alan…in front of us."

"I know," I agreed quietly, hoping he'd get it all out of his system. I had, Gordon had, and Alan had already. Just John and Dad to go, and theirs weren't likely to be so explosive. "Finished?"

"I _think_ so," he mused, dropping the scouring pad back into his bucket of soapy water with a wet slopping sound. "Don't hold me responsible for any of my actions, though."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I assured him breezily. "I'll blame the sparkly golden magic chickens we have running around the house instead."

"Before Onaha uses them for Sunday lunch." Scott laughed, before a look of confusion spread across his face. "Wait…sparkly golden – what?"

"You _really_ need some sleep, my friend," I told him as we began to pick our way through the debris littering the polished silo floor.

"Don't."

"Yeah, you do."

"Trust you to go all medic on me, Virge."

"I _am_ the medic," I reminded him. "And I'm ordering you to catch some rest the second we finish dinner."

"Dad told me to clean-"

"And you listen to Dad since when?" I raised my eyebrows. "He only got you to do that so you wouldn't throttle Alan."

"Who's throttling me?" Alan appeared round the corner, Gordon's arm slung around his shoulders – yes, it was attached to the rest of Gordon.

"No one, I hope," the swimmer commented, giving Scott a pointed look.

"Nah, I only want to throttle the Hood," Scott reassured them calmly. "Tin-tin told me what he did, Sprout."

"Which bit?" Alan asked casually as we made our way towards the dining area. "The firing up One's main rockets? Or maybe getting his men to chase us through the jungle on your buggy. Perhaps it was locking us all in the freezer, or stealing Virgil's bird?"

Gordon rolled his eyes. "I don't think Tin-tin went into _quite_ as much detail."

"No, she didn't," Scott growled dangerously, his eyes narrowing once again. Thankfully, we were saved from a famous nuclear blast, Tracy-style by John joining us and Dad shooting the five of us a warning look as we all rounded the corner.

"What?" Gordon protested instantly, having been on the receiving end of Dad's glares all too often.

"Whenever you five all get together, I get decidedly nervous," he announced to the whole patio. Tin-tin but her lip, almost doubling over in silent laughter. Onaha rolled her eyes, snatching the bundle of cutlery from her daughter and finishing setting the table.

"Who, us?" John grinned.

"How'd you get out, anyway?" I demanded of my immediate older brother, furtively checking for any lingering traces of medication-induced side effects. Thankfully, they seemed to have worn off,

"Tin-tin and Fermat freed me."

"Well, I feel redundant."

"Actually," Alan began slyly. He'd ducked away from Gordon's hair ruffling and was standing next to his friends. Funny how he couldn't stand Tin-tin twenty-four hours ago. "Fermat has something he wants to tell you, Virge."

"Shoot, kiddo," I invited, taking my usual seat in between Dad and Scott. The Kyranos looked like they were joining us as well, I noticed with a rush of warmth. We all felt like a real family.

"I'm c-c-c-sure it can wait," Fermat stalled, looking to Tin-tin for help. Frowning at their reluctance, I took a gulp of lemonade as our adoptive little sister was speaking.

"You _may_ need to replace the guidance processor for Two."

Cue lemonade to come right back up, shooting out of every available orifice and across the table, splattering all over Gordon and Alan. Scott thumped me on the back, hard, as I coughed, spluttered, and tried to clear the bubbles from my nose, rising to my feet.

"Ex_cuse_ me?!"

"Delaying tactics," Alan offered, doing his best not to wither under the poisonous glare Dad was sending him. "And it worked…for a bit. He'd have been gone long before Lady Penelope got here otherwise."

"You took it out?" I realised suddenly, finally able to speak properly again. Gordon began whining as he tried to wipe the gently bubbling lemonade from his shirt, but Alan shut him up with a look that reminded me all too much of Mom.

"I did," Fermat admitted quietly.

"Oh, right, okay, I get it," I raged. "Tin-tin can slime my lift, Alan can scorch a hole through Scott's doors, and you fried my computer, is that it?"

"Just the processing chip," Brains countered. "Easily f-f-f-fi-fix-fix-uh, replaceable, anyway."

Scott grabbed me by the collar of shirt and yanked me back down into my seat. I scowled at him, crossing my arms and refusing to un-cross them until Onaha set the first of many large, square, pepperoni pizzas in front of us.

"Pizza!" John cried, and instantly dove in, leaving Dad cracking up and the rest of us just a little more convinced that our brother was going stir-crazy up there in space.

Tin-tin, being a vegetarian, opted for a plain cheese-and tomato, and made faces at the rest us as we tore into the meat-laden meal. Man, but I was _hungry_. Oxygen deprivation takes a lot out of you.

Fermat was sneaking glances at me for the entire meal, but I'd already decided to let the whole thing go. Today had just been…crazy.

Gordon flicked the back of Alan's ear, earning laughter from Scott and John and a warning look from Dad. Tin-tin pretended to dive out of the way as I went to take a drink again, so I ballooned my cheeks and made out I was going to spit at her. Unfortunately, John chose that moment to lob a plastic spoon across the table in Gordon's general direction, but more specifically in mine.

Several gasping breaths later, I could make out Alan literally rolling on the floor howling, John looking like he didn't know whether to laugh or apologise, and Onaha tsking and clearing away half a sodden pizza.

Alan finally clambered back into his seat, sniggering, and Dad merely raised an eyebrow at us all.

I wrinkled my nose, trying to get rid of the feeling of bubbles popping in my nostrils, just as Brains tipped a glass with his fork. The awkward thing for him was that both were made of plastic, so it came out as more of a hollow knocking sound than the imperious tinkling he no doubt meant it to be. Nevertheless, we all jumped to attention.

"Thank you, everybody," the scientist said quietly, clearly not prepared to speak for longer than necessary. "I believe Mr Tracy has something he would like to say."

"I-" Dad began, as everyone at the table turned to stare at him expectantly. "Brains-"

"Just say it, Mr Tracy."

"But-" he protested.

"It's now or never, Jeff."

"Fine, fine." Dad seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts. We could all tell it was serious; Gordon fell silent; John lowered his pepperoni slice back onto his plate; Scott watched, his eyes narrowed.

"It's about Five, boys."

Five heads shot bolt upright. John's face was alight with eagerness, Scott's tense with trepidation, and both Alan and Gordon's eyes were wide in fear. I don't even want to know what expression was on mine.

"What about her?" Tin-tin asked softly, nudging Dad gently towards his point as we waited to hear what he had to say.

Shooting John an apprehensive and slightly apologetic glance, Dad blurted out all at once, "I'm shutting her down."

* * *

***pokes head out of hole* **

**How was it? Let me know! I'm going into hiding.**

***disappears into hole again***

_**~*CST*~**_


End file.
